


The Balm that Heals a Forlorn Ache

by tattooedsiren



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-14
Updated: 2012-06-14
Packaged: 2017-11-07 16:59:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattooedsiren/pseuds/tattooedsiren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike was worried about Harvey, but kept that information to himself. Harvey was a grown man, didn't need and certainly wouldn’t want Mike's concern, so he would stay silent and know that Harvey would speak to him if he wanted to. So he kept everything work related, even when Harvey took the contracts from Mike's grasp and Mike couldn’t help but note the way his hands were shaking slightly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Balm that Heals a Forlorn Ache

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://suits-meme.livejournal.com/3959.html?thread=3080055#t3080055) on the suits-meme.

Mike was used to just breezing into Harvey's office uninvited and unannounced. Harvey had put up a fight in the beginning, tried to get Donna to restrain him, liked to remind him that he couldn’t just come and go as he pleased. But in the end he relented, not only giving up on chastising him but letting him work in his office when he wasn't there. Mike fully embraced this new work routine, and Harvey always felt a small moment of incredulity whenever he returned from a long meeting and _didn't_ find Mike holed up on the couch.

So, on this night, which appeared the same as any other, Mike walked straight in, head buried in the manila folder he carried, not even looking up before saying, "So I've read the contracts and found at least three major discrepancies that could come back to bite us in the ass later. I swear whoever wrote these needs to give back their law degree because they clearly don't deserve it. Okay, so, the first one is-"

Mike broke off when he finally looked up to see that Harvey was sitting at his desk, glass of scotch in hand, staring into the middle distance of the room. He clearly hadn't noticed Mike's arrival or the never-ending chatter that was part of the whole Mike Ross package. Mike stopped dead in his tracks, looking at Harvey, concerned. He was so still, obviously too deep in his own thoughts. It didn't even occur to Mike that maybe he should just walk out of the office and leave Harvey alone. Instead Mike cleared his throat, but it garnered no reaction. He said Harvey's name, and then a second time, slightly louder when the first produced no response.

Harvey finally came out of his reverie, his head shaking slightly as though he was trying to physically shake his thoughts from his body, and when he blinked, focusing on Mike for the first time, a tear slipped down his cheek.

Mike almost thought he imagined it. It was dark after all, the office lights dimmed and the cloudy night sky outside the large windows providing no additional light, but then Harvey surreptitiously swiped at his face to remove the tear as it fell down his cheek.

"Are you okay?" Mike couldn’t help but ask, taking a tentative step closer.

"Fine," Harvey replied instantly, but the word came out in a rasp and he had to clear his throat, completely giving himself away.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mike asked, genuinely concerned.

The look he got in return was pure Harvey, and it was enough to slightly alleviate his concerns. "Just sit down and tell me what you found."

Mike reluctantly sat on the couch and starting enumerating everything he had discovered. He was worried about Harvey, but kept that information to himself. Harvey was a grown man, didn't need and certainly wouldn’t want Mike's concern, so he would stay silent and know that Harvey would speak to him if he wanted to. So he kept everything work related, even when Harvey stood from his desk with a weary sigh and joined him on the couch. He took the contracts from Mike's grasp and Mike couldn’t help but note the way his hands were shaking slightly.

The room was silent as Harvey looked everything over. For the first time in, well, ever, he felt awkward being with Harvey. There had always been an easy camaraderie between them; from the moment they met they easily fell into a rhythm that was as easy as breathing. There had never been anything like this. Mike had never felt at a loss of things to say, never felt the strain between them like he could feel now. Despite the dangerous game they were playing within the four walls of Pearson Hardman, the lie about Mike's past that coloured their every day, with the exception of the 'Trevor gets kidnapped by drug dealers' incident there had been no 'real life' issues permeate their little bubble.

Harvey hadn't asked him any questions on the case, like he normally would. No comments on his abilities, or lack thereof. No snarky comments, no implied praise, nothing. Mike was torn between wanting to flee and staying where he was, showing Harvey that he was there for him. And Harvey didn't ask him to leave, which Mike had no doubt he would if that was something that he really wanted, and his silence said more than any words could.

“Can I ask you something?” Harvey eventually murmured, uncertain in a way Mike had never seen before, and it was this that made Mike suspect that whatever the question was it wasn't going to be work related.

Mike knew there was something seriously wrong and he needed to show Harvey that he was there for him, in whatever capacity he needed, so he was completely earnest and emphatic when he replied with, “Anything.”

“How did your parents die?”

Mike furrowed his brow slightly, genuinely surprised by this seemingly random question. And after quickly getting over the shock he wondered how it’s possible that Harvey didn't already know. Because he’s not an idiot and he's seen Harvey call on his PI enough times to assume that Harvey probably had him investigated before he started. And he didn't know if he was asking because he honestly didn't know, or if he did already know but didn't want Mike to know that. But Harvey was asking the question now, so Mike answered. “My dad died in a car accident on the Jersey Turnpike and my mom died of breast cancer less than a year later. I was ten.”

Harvey took in a deep breath, didn't look at Mike. “I can’t even imagine how hard that was for you.”

Mike rarely thought about it anymore. It was the darkest time of his life and he tries not to dwell on it, makes a concerted effort to keep his eyes fixed forward. “Yeah, it was pretty horrible,” Mike told him in the understatement of the year. “Losing my dad was tough but then when mom got sick…" He trailed off, lost in memories. He suddenly remembered something he hadn’t thought about in a long time, and inexplicably found himself telling Harvey, "I remember knowing that she was sick and thinking that if I just took care of her as best as I could then she would get better.”

He smiled sadly at the memory. He remembered it as perfectly as if it happened yesterday, his genuine and absolute belief that his mom would be okay, even when she tried to tell him otherwise. He knew now it was the naiveté of youth, that there was nothing he could do, but it still stings. It was the last thing he was ever stubbornly optimistic about. 

Mike shook his head, tried to dislodge the thoughts from his brain. It’s in the past. Eyes forward.

Harvey placed the file on the small table in front of them, rubbed his hands together as though they were cold. The silence of the room felt like it would stretch into eternity and Mike was on the verge of getting up and leaving Harvey in peace when Harvey finally spoke.

"Liam, my brother, just called to tell me that he has an inoperable brain tumour."

Mike felt his heart stop, just for a moment. He could see Harvey swallow, take in a shaky breath as he struggled to get the words out. His chin quivered slightly for a few brief moments.

"The doctors told him he has a month, maybe two."

"Oh God, I’m so sorry, Harvey. Really." Harvey nodded in acknowledgement, but remained silent. But he had opened these doors, and there was no way Mike wasn't going to step through them, so he continued by saying, "You never talk about your brother. Are you guys close?"

"Yeah. I mean, we don't see each other much anymore; he moved to Jersey when he got married a few years ago and this job doesn’t really give me a lot of free time. But we email and call…"

Harvey trailed off, and Mike felt at a loss of what to do. You would think being on the end of a momentous amount of condolence statements when his parents died would adequately prepare him for something like this and he would know exactly what to do and say. But even if that was true, not that it was, but even if he did know the perfect words to say it still wouldn't matter. Because life with Harvey was never about the norm, and what would work for everyone else wouldn’t work with him.

"I don't know how to process this," Harvey admitted, the words coming out in an uncertain drawl, as though he was not only admitting this to Mike but to himself. Mike glanced over and saw him subtly wipe another tear away. 

There was only one thing Mike could do for Harvey in that moment, and that was tell him the truth.

"Look," Mike said, trying to keep his voice as gentle and soothing as possible, "I’m not going to tell you that everything is going to be okay, because it’s really not. This will be the hardest thing you ever experience in your life."

"I’m about to add ‘comforting people in emotional crisis’ to the list of things that you suck at," Harvey told him.

The corner of Mike's mouth quirked into a small smile at that comment, the act of being berated by Harvey finally adding a sense of normalcy to the room. "You wouldn’t want me to lying to you, Harvey. That was our deal, right? Full disclosure. So here it is. This is going to suck for a long time. But you _will_ get through this. And you are not alone."

He placed his hand gently on Harvey's forearm, fingers lightly touching the skin at his wrist. The second their skin came into contact Mike realised that it was too bold a move. They didn't touch each other like this, soft and intimate, and he fully expected Harvey to let the touch go unmentioned (at best) or completely shrug him off (at worst). So he was completely surprised when Harvey's large hand covered his own, grip tight as though Mike was the only thing keeping him anchored to the ground.

"So do whatever you need to do and go and see him tomorrow. Drink everything in your apartment. Sit in a dark room and stare into space. Whatever you need to do to get through the night is okay. I'll call Donna and we'll clear your day tomorrow so you can go see him."

For the first time all evening Harvey straightened, looked more like the badass lawyer Mike knew and revered. "I can't. I have to meet with Jackson and he will lose his shit if we cancel-"

"I can take care of Jackson, Harvey."

Harvey finally turned and looked at Mike. He looked so tired, as though he had aged a year in the last hour. Mike knew it was a big step, leaving him alone with Jackson, trusting that Mike would get the job done. Mike remained strong under Harvey's heady stare, determined to be the person he could trust and rely on. And whatever Harvey was searching for he must have found, because he nodded, just once, and Mike felt the weight of the faith and trust Harvey had in him settle on his shoulders.

Feeling the conversation was finally drawing to a close, that maybe he would be leaving Harvey in better shape than he found him, Mike gave his arm one last squeeze before standing and walking away. He had just neared the threshold of the office door when the sound of Harvey saying his name pulled him up short. 

Harvey lifted his head, slow and weary, fixed on Mike with a heavy gaze and said, "Thanks," so low and reluctant that Mike knew it was the most genuine thankyou Harvey had ever spoken.

Mike nodded, didn't speak for fear of saying things he really shouldn't, and headed back to his cubicle. He picked up the phone to call Donna while reaching for the Jackson file under the stack of briefs on the corner of his desk. Between the prep work he needed to do for tomorrow and his worry over Harvey it was going to be a long night.


End file.
